Becoming Insane
by Ludo Wifeman
Summary: There is something to be said about roommates, and the eventual relationships one builds upon meeting strangers. Unfortunately for Ichigo, life has never been cool like that, so he's stuck with an irritating Grimmjow. Dammit. GrimmIchi, CRACK.
1. Never Never Land

**chapter one**

Contrary to popular belief, Kurosaki Ichigo could make a smart decision. Though they were far and few in between, they were usually quite good ideas.

Ichigo had decided to drive to his new collage campus a good five hours early, hoping to avoid the mad rush of new students, with all his things packed and taped down in boxes, labelled helpfully by Yuzu and Karin, though it was obvious who had taken more care in the task.

However, there was always the problem of common sense when it came to Ichigo. Or rather, his lack of, so when he tried to unlock his [new] front door, but instead found himself pushing it open with ease, only on thing came to mind:

Someone has tried to rob him before he even bothered to _move in_.

It did not occur to Ichigo, as he tried- and failed -to place a box of too-damn-heavy school books on the hallway floor quietly, that his [also new] roommate had bothered to show up first, no matter how damn early that had been. [They'd actually been told that they didn't have to be on campus until around ten PM. Most would have started to pour in at around eight. Ichigo thought it a wise choice to show early, to familiarize himself with the grounds, and shown up at five.]

So, calling upon his inner ninja, the messy-haired boy crept around the open door, mind focused and searching for sounds of stereotypical plate smashing and closet digging hoodlums. It also did not occur to him, at that moment, that his [still new] roommate had already unpacked and taken to his own room, but Ichigo has never had the kind of expert brains to tell the world of.

But when Ichigo did find himself tripping over something soft, warm and about the size of a small dog, he knew there something undeniably wrong with this burglary. After all, who left their damn _cat _on the floor to be found?

That cat in question was giving Ichigo the kind of murderous vibes that could easily be put up against those of... actually, they probably surpassed Byakuya's. And Ishida's. And, Gods, even _Tatsuki's _when she was angry. Ichigo didn't even know how this had happened, considering not twenty seconds ago he was creeping around in all his inner-ninja glory, but was now sprawled on the hallway-living room floor, face to face with a hissing cat.

Ichigo stared.

The damn cat stared back.

And Ichigo stared some _more_, because if he couldn't win a staring contest against a cat, there was seriously something wrong.

And, in return, the cat scratched him clear across his nose.

"_Ow!" _Ichigo yelled, because damn manly pride, that cat had some _nails_. "_What _the _fuck!_"

And he stepped up to his full height, hoping that such a move would cause undeniable horror within in this... this _beast _to _leave him alone_, but all it served to do was earn Ichigo with a cat scratching at his pant leg mercilessly.

"_Oi!_" came an all to familiar voice down the hall, and for once Ichigo was overjoyed to hear Tatsuki's loud ass mouth running off. "_Ichigo! _Your shit's down stairs!"

"Holy crap!" Ichigo replied, because he's never been very articulate. "Help!"

And, though Ichigo knew quite a few people who would be staying in the same building as him, he did not expect Tatsuki, Orihime, Rukia and Renji to come stepping around the door to find him at the mercy of a goddamn _feline_.

Of course, Renji was the first to burst into ridiculous bouts of uncontrolled laughter the minute he saw Ichigo ankle deep in stupid cat, and Rukia just barely managed to give him a look of 'sorry-but-this-is-_too-good_' while Orihime just stood there, looking slightly more confused than usual with Tatsuki quickly joining Renji in the point-and-laugh-at-Kurosaki festival.

Ichigo really wanted to punch something. Or someone.

Or this _fucking cat_.

Speaking of cat, Ichigo couldn't hear the damn things creepy hissing or feel its way too long nails digging into his flesh. Which meant...

"Ah, what's _this_, Pantera?"

And suddenly all five occupants of Ichigo's [now that he looked around, he can actually see things already settled that he hadn't seen before, but nonetheless still new] hallway-living room turned to stare at a wet and mostly naked teal haired, blue eyed man holding that _goddamn cat_.

Honestly, someone 'up there' hates him, Ichigo concluded.

And then, just to top it all off, with all the goddamn squirming that _bloody _cat was doing the ridiculously small towel fell, and Ichigo really wondered what he'd done to deserve such punishment.

* * *

Forty minutes later, and Ichigo's stuff- still in their respective boxes -were finally in the little hallway area, but it's definitely a step up from having them block the entrance way downstairs. But, alas, the Gods still hate poor Kurosaki Ichigo, it seemed, because the only reason it took _forty _minutes instead of _ten _is the broken elevator, and his luck at being placed on the fifth floor.

He still hated the cat. A _lot_. As does his nose, which is sporting a pink and _equally_ annoying Chappy band aid across it, thanks to Rukia and Orihime's worrying [although, it'd mostly been Orihime. Ichigo was so sure that Rukia was only helping for shits and giggles. The runt. Not to mention the damn band aids on his _leg_. That cat had to be checked. Or something.]

In fact, the other four _unwanted _visitors were still in his goddamn new home, scattered around the coffee table like some, some _wanted _visitors. The nerve of them.

But, on the other hand, at least his new roommate was wearing pants. Thank _God_.

Unfortunately, he still refused to wear a shirt. Something about being in his own home and having freedom, blah blah blah.

"Is anyone going to help me?" Ichigo asked, though to who was a mystery to all. Especially since it appeared he was talking to the backs of four people who claimed themselves to be his _friends_. The _bastards_. "Anyone?"

"So you're _spanish, _Grimmjow?" Renji all but politely ignored Ichigo's pleas for help, and made the latter want to smash his head against the wall. Repeatedly.

"_Hah_, only half." The stupid shirtless blue haired _freak _said nonchalantly, and stretched back in a way that tightened his abdomen muscles.

Ichigo was sure at least _one _of his so called friends was looking at more than just Grimmjow's face, and he had a sinking feeling said friend was around his height, red haired and heavily tattooed. Not to mention _male_, because though Ichigo wasn't prejudice against big, flaming gays [read: Yumichika] it would put him in a tight spot if Renji were to do anything... well, anything stupid.

And trust him, Ichigo is an _expert _on stupid shit. Especially stupid shit that Renji has done in the past. _Especially _under the influence of alcohol.

_Please_, Ichigo stared up at the ceiling in a sort of semblance to praying; searching for whatever people searched for when they looked up at the sky like that. _Please, if there is anyone up there who has a shred of pity for me, please not let Renji fuck my roommate. Please._

Yeah, it was a ceiling, but it was the thought that counts, right?

Besides, Ichigo rather liked the way his head sat on his neck the way it did. And how he was able to breath without much trouble. Not to mention how he knew that he had pretty much all his vital organs in the right place. Because _if _Renji did end up doing something incredibly stupid, Ichigo had no doubt in his mind that Byakuya would blame him by affiliation, or something equally confusing, and have his head in a jar; his balls in another. And he'd probably set them in his office or study, like a prized possession, and have a plaque beneath them saying, '_Beware! This is what happens to those whom dare lay hands upon Abarai Renji. By affiliation._'

"Christ." Ichigo choked out, almost dropping the box of books in his arms. He eyed the ceiling warily, and briefly wondered if he ought to go up to the rooftop and pray.

Before promptly throwing himself off.

He also wondered why the noble were called noble if they were also a tad bit possessive, and a hell of a lot obsessed, and shit load jealous. Especially with idiots like Renji, or Rukia. Or, in other circumstances, just Renji.

"...dinner sounds great!" Orihime was saying. At least, Ichigo was _sure _that's what she had said; it was kind of hard to tell with Orihime, since most of the things she talked about was either her strange taste in food, or her equally strange taste in friends.

"I agree," Grimmjow grinned, in that sadistic way that Ichigo was soon learning was his 'casual' smile. Talk about creeper. "Food sounds _fantastic_."

And, just to top _this _moment off, the freak licked his lips in that kind of perverted way that Ichigo knew all too well, having been raised by a dirty old pervert himself.

Jesus, Ichigo just wanted him to put on a _shirt_.

* * *

For Ichigo, his hair made him stand out more than he liked. Bullies were assholes, and older students who got their rocks off from beating up ten years old were just douche bags.

Grimmjow, it appeared, was making Ichigo sink into the background look _easy_. And not just because of his own hair color.

At least he was wearing a shirt.

Scowling, Ichigo downed another shot of- what the hell _was _this? Oh, well -his drink, and instantly felt the insane burn spread across his throat and tongue. And just to compliment it, he downed another. And then another.

And, fuck, why not another?

"Er, y'kay there, buddy?" asked the barmiad, eyeing his rapidly disappearing drinks. Ichigo tried to return the look, but all he managed was to eye her sizable chest, and Christ- woman could take a man's eye out with them! They were that fucking big.

"Dinner." Ichigo offered after what felt like a millennium of staring- quite blatantly, at that -and pointed at her dejectedly. "Here. For dinner."

"Ah, so you're with that group, eh?" she breezed past his staring. Ichigo figured, with boobs that big, she was probably use to it- it didn't help that they were practically _popping _out of her tiny dress shirt like that. She indicated with a tilt of her head towards the crowd of people around that unmistakeable, even when semi-almost-pretty much drunk, teal head, and was bloody spot on.

Ichigo offered a scowl for the group then, and promptly downed another.

"What _'s _this?" he asked the woman, who was wiping down the bench with a kind of bored expression on her face.

"Hmm?" she looked up, then squinted at the still full shot glass in his fingers. Without a seconds hesitation, she snatched it and gave it a quick sniff. "Oh! Tequila, haven't you ever tried it?"

From his drunk-addled blank look, she surmised that he had not, in fact, taken a few shots of Tequila before. It certainly did explain why he was practically falling over himself after about fifteen shots, though.

"Well, you're doing it all wrong," she sniffed, then let a very bright, very _evil_ smirk spread across her pretty features. Ichigo did not like that look. "Here, let me show you how to drink it-"

"Not in a million years, Matsumoto."

The barmaid pouted. "But, I was just helping out a respectable _customer, _sir!"

Ichigo squinted at the small, like _woah _small, geezer who was making his way down from the other end of the bar.

Then, oh shit, it turned out the geezer looked a hell of a lot younger up close, even with his white hair.

"Not while on the _job_, Matsumoto," the geezer-but-not-a-geezer said, all serious business like. It kind of gave Ichigo the creeps, especially since the... white-haired... guy sounded like a damn ten year old. Or something. "You know the rules."

Matsumoto sighed, then beamed like the goddamn sun. It hurt Ichigo's eyes to look, so he turned away- only to end up turning around after spotting an equally blinding grin, thanks to the teal-haired freak himself. He'd take his chances with miss no-no-drink and not-geezer.

"Yes, sir!" Then, "can I go on my break now, sir?"

Not-geezer sighed, pinching his nose with forefinger and thumb. "Fine. No drinking." He eyed Ichigo this time, and the fact that the orange haired boy looked like he was half asleep on the bench, cheek pressed against the glass-like surface. "At least, not to the point of incapacitation."

"Right-o, captain!" the tan-haired woman said, before all but fluttering away.

Not that Ichigo thought that possible; not with those things on her chest weighing her down. Ichigo wondered if they could keep her buoyant in water, though, then groaned at the onslaught of mental image supplied by his own stupid brain, and pressed his other cheek against the cool surface.

This, was not cool.

At all.

There had to be, like, a _list _of uncool things in the world, and being shunted by your "_friends_" for a cockier, louder, brighter-haired dude had to seriously be in the top ten.

"Not cool," Ichigo replied to himself out loud, just to make sure his goddamn _voice _hadn't betrayed him. Thank Gods, it was still there.

* * *

When Ichigo opened his eyes, he knew something was most definitely _not right_.

It didn't help, really, that the first things he came upon after blinking himself awake was a very much _naked chest. _

However, because luck has never really been on Ichigo's side _at all_, what made this even worse was the lack of breast in his face. Or how naked he felt under the covers.

_Or the way his legs were tangled with someone else's'. _

So Ichigo, in all his self-proclaimed genius glory, did the first thing that came to mind, and promptly screamed.

* * *

**[A/N: **THERE IS SOMETHING SO VERY WRONG WITH ME. Just, y'know, thought I'd voice this. Basically, this is just crack. Like. _WOAH CRACK. _Later chapters will be longer, hopefully, and just before anyone asks- _what is a plot?_

PLOT DOES NOT EXIST. THIS IS JUST BECAUSE I HAVE ISSUES THAT NEED TO BE RESOLVED WITH EVEN STUPIDER CRAP. LIKE THIS. 8D

Enjoy!

**Standard disclaimer.]**


	2. Unbalanced

**chapter two**

Grimmjow liked to think himself as being a good lay. Jesus, just _look _at him! People practically _salivated _at the sight of him, and it was a widely known fact that he flirted with pretty much anything that was warm blooded and breathing.

But when one Kurosaki Ichigo decided that it was appropriate to start _screaming _at god knows what time in the morning, Grimmjow knew something was not right.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?" Kurosaki screeched, and thumped him on the chest with a bawled fist, drawing the blankets closer to his equally bare chest. "WHY ARE AM I NAKED? WHY ARE YOU IN MY BED? WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?"

"Because you're _loud_, and it's-" Grimmjow squinted at the other, reaching over- ignoring the yelp that Kurosaki let out -and blinking at the electric alarm clock in his hand. "- seven in the morning. We don't have orientation until _two_, so _shut the fuck up._"

When there was blissful silence again, Grimmjow promptly flopped over and tried to get back to sleep- only, y'know, a certain _idiot _was prodding him in the shoulder blade.

Turning over with a scowl, the teal-haired man growled at him. "_What?_"

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo opened his mouth. "_Why_, are you in my bed? And why, for the _love of God_, are we naked?"

Grimmjow blinked.

Ichigo blinked back.

Grimmjow blinked again, brows furrowing slightly.

Ichigo scowled, because this was beginning to feel vaguely dejá-vu-ish.

Then, slowly, because Grimmjow was seriously beginning to think that his roommate was three different kinds of stupid, he pulled the covers away to show his boxers and said, "this is my room."

The color of Kurosaki's face after that almost matched Renji's hair, and had it not been for his splitting headache and the really bad smell of booze coming- mostly -from the other, Grimmjow would have laughed.

Fuck, why not? He laughed anyway, winching only a bit when it hurt.

"Then why am _I _naked?" the orange-haired boy hissed, pulling the covers even higher, skepticism deep in his voice. "And _why am I in your bed?_"

This was getting stupid, Grimmjow surmised, and scoffed at Kurosaki's almost _frigidity. _What was he, twelve? Seriously, the way he was acting was as if he was a vir-

"_Holy shit._" Eyes the size of something ridiculous, the teal-haired man practically catapulted upwards and prodded Kurosaki's covered chest. "You're a _virgin!_"

And, really, Ichigo should have beat the crap out of his roommate then and there, just to prove that- though still a virgin -he was still _manly_, goddammit!

Instead, he groaned and buried his head in his hands.

It was the beginning of a beautiful- if not semi-murderous, stupid, no-sided but obligatory -relationship.

* * *

Two hours later, and Grimmjow was still laughing his ass off.

Ichigo was not impressed. At all. Especially when Rukia found it oh-so-important to join in on it.

And there they were sitting there, on the damn _couch, _pointing at him like he wasn't even _there _and, really, the _nerve. _If Ichigo wasn't so intent on taking the high road, he would have thrown Rukia out the door, and Grimmjow out the window.

The thought gave him a little bit of satisfaction, prompting a self-issued smirk, before the sound of cackling reached his ears and his facial features returned to their default.

At the very least, Ichigo vowed to never drink again. Alcohol obviously made him think stupid things, and agree to do... things... with stupid freaks and- wait. He still hadn't even gotten an answer as to how- or better yet, _why_ -he woke up in Grimmjow's bed this morning. At the thought, he turned his scowl towards the teal-haired moron and doubled his efforts in glaring holes through his head.

"Oh, _c'mon_, Ichigo!" Rukia finally took notice, and that would have been nice and dandy if _she had been the one he was trying to get the attention of_. "It's kinda funny, you have to admit! You should be thankful Grimmjow even brought you home!"

Seriously, someone was going to die, and it was most likely not going to be Rukia. [Because, y'know, Ichigo valued his life, and quite frankly, Byakuya kind of scared him.]

"I'm not thankful to the asshole, _especially _since I woke up with his goddamn _chest_ in my _face_!" the orange-haired boy flung his arms up into the air. "Not to mention _naked_! In his _bed_!"

And, thank the heavens, there was _silence_.

That was, until... "Naked in bed."

Ichigo blinked stupidly. "Well, yeah, that's what you're laughing at, right?"

When Rukia shook her head slowly- why were people doing that lately? Jesus! -Ichigo felt his headache double, and clutched as his head in fear that, y'know, _his brain was going to implode_.

He briefly wondered if the rooftop idea was still valid, eyeing the ceiling desperately, and after Rukia fell into another- if not _more hysterical _-fit of endless laughter, Ichigo seriously thought better of the idea.

Hell, he might as well cut the walk and save everyone the trouble by simply throwing himself out the window.

Someone, seriously, must hate him up-there. So much so, that Ichigo was damn prepared to stick his head out the window and proclaim this to the heavens-

"Y'know, Ichiberry," the teal-haired freak called, lips curled into that 'look-at-me-I'm-a-creeper' smirk Ichigo did _not _like. "I deliberately left that part out, to save you the embarrassment."

Then, lord, the idiot _licked his lips _in a way that the orange-haired boy _knew _Grimmjow was doing on purpose, so really- it wasn't _his _fault if he found himself staring rather blatantly at the others mouth.

Had a nice mouth, Ichigo begrudgingly thought. Still didn't put him out of his bad books, though, especially after that godforsaken nickname.

Ichigo hoped to high heaven that it didn't stick.

It wasn't until Rukia let out a low cough, the kind Ichigo had come to acknowledge as the 'shut-up-sit-down-_listen_' cough that both she and Byakuya had perfected, did Ichigo realize how _long _he'd been staring at the freak. When he did realize, though, he certainly made a show of turning away and giving Rukia his undivided attention.

"I have to go," the dark-haired girl intoned, giving her watch a pointed look. If she was unnerved by Ichigo's intense stare, and to be honest, _she kind of was_, she didn't let them know. "Got a boxing meeting with Kensei."

And, yeah, _she left really quickly, _leaving behind a rather bewildered Ichigo in the process.

Poor [stupid] boy, Rukia thought upon her exit; zipping her jacket and pulling up the hood. Oh well, she was sure he'd be fine. At least, he _better _be- there was _no way in hell _she was going to sit through their lectures alone; that was just asking for it.

* * *

Ichigo had, over the years, learned to accustom himself to whatever situation he found himself in at the time.

Right now though, he didn't know whether smashing his head against a wall or throwing himself out a window were considered good terms of 'accustoming'.

"Oi," a voice that Ichigo _really didn't _wanna hear said, and a toe that the orange-haired boy was _so _prepared to tear off nudged his side. Grunting, the boy turned around and have Grimmjow the most heated glare he could manage.

The other shrugged it off as disguised affection.

"Breakfast?"

Ichigo physically stumbled, or at least, did his best to considering his face was more or less pressed into the couch arm. Luckily, he caught himself before he fell off.

"Excuse me?"

"Breakfast," the teal-haired man repeated, slightly deadpanned. "Y'know, most important meal of th' day?"

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped, and felt like he was allowed to act a little bitchy. Although... "Yeah, fine. Whatever." And then, "so. What're we gonna do?"

Grimmjow gave him a look that suggested he was very, very dumb. And maybe more then just three levels of stupid.

"What else? Waffles." And Grimmjow picked himself off the couch, grabbing Ichigo by the collar and practically _throwing _the smaller male through the still open door. "'nd hurry it up, will ya, princess? Man's gotta eat."

And there they were, almost twenty minutes later, sitting in a brightly colored booth, the only thing separating the two men being a huge quantity of food.

"How the hell did this happen." Ichigo intoned, staring at Grimmjow's rather... impressive... plate of waffles while taking a gulp of his coffee. It was pretty fuckin' wicked, to be honest; kind of like a tower of fatty, yet good, foods.

What was scary, was the speed at which the other ate them.

"Jesus, take a _breath_, will ya?" the orange-haired boy glared, and noticed with a frown that he was _already _out of coffee. Shame he still had a headache. "You're gonna choke or something."

"Awh, I'm flattered you care," Grimmjow managed in between bites, seeming to be able to grin at the same time. "But I don't think something as pansy-ass as _waffles _are gonna kill _me_."

Ichigo was so prepared to make him eat those words, and stuff about ten of those pansy-ass waffles down his throat. If anything, he intensified his glare, but yet again it was lost on the moron.

And he had to _live _with him? Christ.

"Y'know," at the sound of what appeared to be yet another round of 'laugh-and-point-at-Kurosaki', Ichigo wanted to slam his head against the table between them. "Next time, don't drink so much, yeah?"

Ichigo blinked, a little bit surprised at the, apparent, not jerk-worthy words. "What?"

Grimmjow sighed, in a way that made him seem all holier than thou. Ichigo scowled, because that kind of really pissed him off. The _bastard_.

"Next time you jump into bed with me. Don't drink so much, you _reek_ of booze."

What.

"Because, ya may be a lil hot, Ichi, I'll give you that."

_What_.

He swore to God, his brain kind of died a little just then.

"And ye've got a hot bod, yeah. Nothing against mine, though; I mean- fuck, _look _at me."

And it was still, sadly, a little dead. So dead, in fact, Ichigo kind of felt it melt and drip out his ears.

"I'm one smokin' hot son of a bitch, to be honest."

Ichigo was sure that, had his brain been in the right place, at the right time, he would have _totally _taken offense at this... conversation?... whatever the hell it was. Unfortunately, he was still trying to find the 'FIX' button.

"But really, no booze next time."

GODDAMMIT. WHY WAS HE NOT OPENING HIS MOUTH?

"I'd feel a little bad, takin' advantage of a wee lil _virgin _in such a state. There's no fun in that, innit there, Ichi?"

And, lo and behold, Kurosaki Ichigo discovered a thing called a tongue, and a mouth, and general body functions and a brain, and decided for the sake of his _virgin ears _that he'd use them all at once.

"WOULD YOU SHUT UP?" the orange-haired boy wailed, not realizing until it was too late that he'd all but catapulted up in all his indignant rage. Oh well. "Do you have an _off _button? Do I have to do something stupid to be able to make you _not talk!_ DO YOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS IN PUBLIC?"

Rage gone, Ichigo fell back into his seat, panting ever so slightly and marveling at his own sudden burst of... whatever the hell that was. One good thing had come out of it though, luckily, especially seeing as the diner they were in had suddenly fallen into a lapse of silence; Grimmjow was looking somewhat dumbstruck, and was undeniably silent.

Thank you, voice of reason! Ichigo practically _prayed _to the ceiling. Only, he didn't, because that would have seemed all kinds of weird. And for someone who'd just managed to silence an entire diner full of people, becoming even weirder then he already was would have been a, uh, bad thing.

Then, why God why, the other man smirked, amused.

"Well, well, Ichi. Looks like ya have more balls then I gave ya credit fer." And just to send Ichigo into a spiraling vortex of _doom_, he added, "And I should know, 'specially after last night."

Grimmjow licked his lips hungrily, and Ichigo all but managed _not to smash his head _against the table. Again. Because that would have been one hell of a messy scene, and a part of him knew that Grimmjow would have just laughed it off.

The bastard.

[Really, it did not help matters that Ichigo felt, amongst other feelings- rage, hate, rage, hungover, _rage_ -a little aroused. Fucking hell.]

And Grimmjow, _the bastard_, just turned back to his still enormous plate of waffles and began scoffing them down one by one, more amused then he really should have been.

"Kill me _now._"

* * *

"Awh, c'mon, Ichi!" Grimmjow called, jogging lightly to keep up with the others rage-influenced pace. "I was just foolin' with ya!"

He got a well deserved scowl over the shoulder in response. "You're _still _an asshole for doing it!"

And an asshole for _continuing _to use that goddamn nickname; they weren't even _close_! Nor did Ichigo plan on _getting _close with the bastard!

"Psh," slowing his pace, the teal-haired man grinned and shoved his hands into his pants pocket. Yeah, badass _and _hot; the world could so not handle him. "Don't be such'a sourpuss, Ichi. A joke's a joke, and if it's any consolation, I di'nt do anythin' _bad _to ya, okay?"

Pause.

Back up.

Ichigo gave the other man a scrutinizing glare, because he kind of felt- or rather _knew _-that that was the closest thing to an apology he was going to get.

"Bad?"

Grimmjow nodded.

"Like, how?"

Grimmjow made a face, and shrugged.

Ichigo found his headache coming back, full force. Pinching the bridge of his nose with forefinger and thumb, he barely resisted the urge to punch the bastard in the jaw. [Why, was beyond him.]

"I'unno, does jerkin' someone off in their sleep count as bad?"

Ichigo's brain, for the second time that day, died.

Luckily, it came back faster then before. And this time, he didn't have an idiot trying to spout bullshit while he was attempting to revive it.

He punched him.

"_Ow!_" the other man winched lightly, rubbing at his jaw with a frown. "What was that for? I was only _jokin'_!"

Ichigo did not find his jokes very funny.

In fact, he punched him again just to prove this.

"A _joke_, Ichi! Can't you take a joke, for gods sake?" At the sight of another bawled up fist, Grimmjow quickly backtracked. The kid had an iron fist or something, seriously. "Fine! I'm sorry!"

Appearing appeased by the apology, Kurosaki let his fist down and Grimmjow blinked at the slight quirk of his lips; turning back around and marching- a little slower this time, much to the teal-haired man's amusement -back to their shared apartment.

...goddamn, he couldn't help it.

"Gotta give ya credit, berry, ye sure are hot when you're angry like that."

So Ichigo found himself wholly in his rights to feel even _more _satisfied when the other lagged a little on the rest of the walk back.

And Grimmjow was only slightly annoyed at the way he was limping behind the orange haired boy. Hell, at least he got an eyeful of his ass, he supposed.

The kid was just _too _much fun not to mess with, after all.

* * *

Around a little before two, Ichigo found himself sitting, unfortunately, between a loudmouthed Renji and even louder Tatsuki, wondering why in a sea of new students, he was stuck with _these _two. God save him, honestly.

Or God save those two, because if they _didn't stop talking _about the apparent shit he'd done last night in his drunk-addled state, over the top of him no less, he was going to maim someone.

At least he didn't have Grimmjow being stupid around him, at least. Seriously, he was going to ask for a transfer or something; there was no way in heaven or hell he should be expected to spend a _year _living with the freak! He didn't know if he could even last another _day _in there-

"Uh, Ichigo?" Tatsuki whispered, elbowing him. "You do realize you're, uh, mumbling to yourself, right?"

Ichigo frowned at her. Then realized that, yes, he was in fact mumbling to himself. Rather loudly, at that; the silence that had suddenly taken over the seated students only seemed to double it, too.

"First sign of madness, you know."

God hates me, Ichigo thought, eyeing the high ceiling with more vehemence than intended.

Twisting around in his seat, Ichigo knew he shouldn't have been so surprised. Yet, he was.

"...Ishida."

The bespectacled student smirked knowingly, a slight sneer settled on his features. "Glad to know you actually _have _a brain with the capacity to remember names, Kurosaki."

To be honest, so was he, especially after those two episodes with Grimm-

Yup, scowl doubled successfully. Jesus, he should be given a _medal_ or something for his efforts. "Shut it, Ishida. What the hell are you _doing _here anyway-"

"Shaddap 'n siddown." a booming voice commanded from the general area up front, where a makeshift stage that was raised about a foot or so off the ground stood. "I've got shit ta do, so le's get this over with."

There were some cheers, some hushed confused murmurs, and overall, silence. The orange-haired boy would be a liar if he didn't find himself in the last group.

Then, _holy shit_, there stood the biggest goddamn man Ichigo ever found himself laying eyes on. And his dad was pretty fucking big, in all honesty.

His black hair was slicked back, running off his shoulders, and he donned an eyepatch and scars. He was dressed in black slacks, a white- if slightly tinted and dotted -dress shirt, and a long-ass jacket that looked... kind of torn at the edges.

"Name's Zaraki Kenpachi," the man grinned maliciously, and tilted his head ever-so-slightly at the crowd of new and old students. "Guess a shitload of ya know me, some of ya don't; I couldn't give two shits, but whate'er."

"Dude," Renji whispered, nudging Ichigo this time. "This guy looks way awesome, dun'ya think?"

The orange-haired boy gave his friend the best deadpanned look he could muster. Trust the idiot to find interest in a guy with an eyepatch and scars.

Er. Not in _that _way, of course. Ichigo wholly thought the redhead had a thing for nobles and pretty boys who had high-and-mighty complexes and a habit of being intimidating. Overall, Renji was very weird.

Kind of like everyone he knew, but that was something Ichigo had long ago gotten over.

"ANYWAY." The same booming voice practically shouted, although it really seemed like he didn't. Did he have a hidden microphone or something? What the hell. "I guess I'm yer warden for the year, newbies. I'm lookin' forward ta breakin' ya all in." Cue vicious smirk. Pause. "Guys, I mean. Ye don't break in a woman, ya hear?"

There was a general murmur of 'yessir'.

"I'll have yer balls in a jar if I hear any of ya hit a woman, got it?"

A little louder this time; 'yessir.'

"Good." ... "Now what? Am I done? Can I fuckin' _leave_? I'm bored as fuck."

Without waiting for a sign of dismissal, the giant of a man gave a short huff before making a, more silent then thought, exit.

Everyone in the crowd blinked.

"What in the world," Ishida breathed, feeling more perplexed then he liked. "Just happened."

To be absolutely honest, the rest of the crowd [or mostly those who'd never had an encounter with one Zaraki Kenpachi] were wondering the same.

"Have we been... dismissed?" Someone asked.

"Beats me, man." Someone else said.

Then, "KEN-CHAN IS SO STUPID SOMETIMES."

Everyone in the crowd blinked. Again.

Standing where Kenpachi once stood, holding what looked like a stack of papers and a lollipop, was a girl that Ichigo was so sure only barely came up to his thighs.

Yet again, a collective blink.

"ANYWAY." The pink haired... infant? No, she had to be older then that- child turned her lollipop on the crowd. "'m Yachiru! Cuz Ken-chan's so stupid, I was told ta do this! SO." Dropping the pile of papers with all the grace of a five year old- although, well, she could've been five quite frankly -she smiled. "There! So ya all gotta come up 'nd grab yer time-table thingies and like that-" giving the stack a healthy pat, much like what one would give a pet, she continued on. "-done!"

Right there, Ichigo surmised that he was insane for choosing a collage that was closer to home then he wanted, because _obviously _the general insanity of Karakura town had also spread here.

"... did we just, uh- for a lack of a better word, get _told _by a child?" Ishida asked over the complete silence.

Yup, completely insane.

* * *

"How was it?"

Ichigo gaped upon finding his roommate spread across the couch, shirtless and eating out of a takeaway box. He'd been so sure he'd gotten back before him too-

"You didn't go." The orange-haired boy scowled, and just barely resisted making the quickly fading bruise on the others jaw darker.

Grimmjow grinned wickedly. "'course not, berry. Caught wind that Kenpachi was takin' it today, and as much as I find the big guy funny as hell, I already know what he's gonna say." At Ichigo's increased scowl, he only grinned harder. "So, how was it?"

Grudgingly, Ichigo pulled out his timetable from where it was folded in his back pocket, and dropped down on the adjacent couch. "Funny as hell, like you said."

That damn grin got wider, much to his distaste.

"What'cha got first?"

"... er."

"Give me the damn thing, ye moron."

Ichigo sniffed; like the shirtless idiot could talk, but nonetheless handed the piece of paper over.

"Would'ja look at that, Ichi."

Confused, the younger boy turned to stare- not scowl, because he was actually curious as to why the other sounded so... well. Kind of amused, but more intrigued then anything else.

"Looks like yer in my Linguistics class. Innit _that _interestin'?"

It took much coaxing on Grimmjow's part to get the other male's head back in the window, especially after he started shouting about how God hated him.

* * *

**[A/N: **Awh shit, Ichi. I AM SO SORRY. Really, you're the man, and I have _tons _of respect for ya man, but seriously- Grimm's right. YOU'RE SO MUCH FUN TO SCREW AROUND WITH. AHAHAHAHA.

Why such a fast update? Because paranoia is a bitch, and every ten or so words I've looked over my shoulder to make sure there is nothing. There. FFFFFFFFUUUU-

Anyway! There you go, some lovely teasing on Grimmkitty's part, and some choice idiocy from Ichi's. I swear, I'm having way too much fun screwin' with that guys head. But I digress; this authors note has no point, to be honest. SO.

**standard disclaimer.]**


	3. Bust a Move

**chapter three**

Ichigo was quickly learning that, though he always looked- for a lack of a better word -_perfect _and ready; like he'd gotten up two hours to work out, do his hair and perfect that creepy grin of his, Grimmjow was the laziest person he'd _ever _met.

And his dad was pretty goddamn lazy, in all honesty, so seeing this was more then just a shock.

What didn't help matters, was the fact that their first class [unfortunately _together_, dammit all] was located somewhere on the other side of the campus, and seeing as yesterday their... orientation?... hadn't gone as planned, Ichigo didn't have a bloody clue as to where he was going. So Grimmjow had offered to take him.

The orange-haired boy had begrudgingly accepted the offer because, holy shit- this place was bigger then he thought.

Only, y'know, _Grimmjow wouldn't get off _the couch, and class started in like- fucking _two minutes!_

To say that Ichigo was beyond stressed would have been the understatement of the _century_.

"_Move_." Ichigo tried again, so very near hitting his lowest immaturity rate and smacking the other with his books. "_Do something_. At least put on a _shirt_!"

Grimmjow yawned, scratched at his bare stomach, and changed channels.

Fuck it; Ichigo threw a textbook.

"Ow!"

Sure, the thing costed more then his weekly food intake, but that small sound of pain was far more satisfying than any meal he'd had in a _long _time.

"Calm down, would'ja?" Grimmjow murmured, rubbing his head. "We'll be fine, for gods sake. 'S not like anyone ever shows up early."

Ichigo scoffed. Then scowled. And then gave a pointed glare at the digital clock projected on the dvd player, as if trying to illustrate to the _absolute moron _that- actually, _he wanted to be early_.

"Ichi, stop gettin' yer panties in a twist." At the sight of another raised book, Grimmjow quickly backtracked with a semi-nervous grin. Seriously; kid plus iron fist plus book? Not good. Especially to his hairdo. "_Okay_."

Sniffing indignantly, Ichigo allowed himself a small satisfied smirk; watching the other get up and pick up his own set of books before making his way to the door.

Then, "Grimmjow?"

"Huh?"

"Your shirt."

"Right."

* * *

Ichigo was twitching.

Grimmjow could see it, from where he stood beside the younger male, walking as painfully slow as he possibly could _just _to bug the other one.

It was totally working.

As if mechanically, the orange-haired boy checked his watch, then looked up at the pathway they'd been walking for about five minutes now, then back at his watch and books.

From the corner of his eye, the teal-haired man saw him twitch again.

Goddamn kid, honestly.

"Don't worry, sourpuss." Grimmjow drawled, kicking a pebble on his path and watching it jump across a couple cobble stones. "'s not far, and it's not like we're _late_."

Ichigo wanted to kill. Unfortunately, there were too many witnesses here, and- actually, come to think of it, looking around he saw more students lagging behind then he'd expected to find.

Blinking, Ichigo gave Grimmjow a sideways glance.

"Told ya," was all that the other said before disappearing through a giant door. Reluctantly, Ichigo followed, having to squint to see very far because of the darkened lecture hall, being careful as to where he stepped-

"_CRAP._"

He fell face first into somebody's lap.

Jesus, could life _get _any worse?

"N'awh, Ichiberry. Not in public, eh?"

Nope, apparent it _could. _Groaning internally, Ichigo pulled back and found himself face to face with jerk-off number one, grinning like a maniac. He scowled.

Then jumped, because the bastard _pinched his ass_.

"Sit 'ere, Ichi," Grimmjow patted the seat next to his. Much to Ichigo's dismay, it appeared to be the only free one, and with all the grace of a disgruntled bull, he fell into it.

Beside him, the idiot cackled madly. "_This _is gonna be a fun lecture."

* * *

There was a huge possibility that Ichigo was blowing everything out of proportion.

Like, _major _possibility of blowing it out of proportion.

But it was kind of hard to focus on things like that when he felt someone else's _hand _touching _his leg _in a _very inappropriate way_.

Beside him, Grimmjow blew a stray hair from his vision.

Under the table, the orange-haired boy felt the hand crawl along his thigh.

Ichigo felt the need to grind his teeth, glaring holes through the idiots head.

"_What are you doing?_" he hissed under his breath, jabbing the others side with an elbow. "_Stop it._"

Grinning, the other gave him a sideways glance. "Stop what?"

"You know _exactly _what you're doing-"

"_SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN._"

A door slammed open, filtering in a hazy light that silhouetted two figures- one tall and thin, the other short with... pigtails? -who made their way down the steps and into the centre of the lecture hall.

There was a collective silence, quickly followed by a blink.

Grimmjow stretched [with one arm] and scratched his nose.

Ichigo almost slammed his face against the desk when a _certain idiot _rubbed his _fingers_ in tight circles _incredibly close to his crotch, _just to keep himself from moaning out loud. Instead he gave the teal-haired freak a well deserved kick against the shins, making the other yelp and retract his hand.

He felt better, and not like smashing his head against the nearest hard surface, but just to be careful he shuffled away as far as possible without ending up falling off his seat.

Then he looked up, and immediately thought better of it. After all, if he thought the collage was insane before, now he was dead sure of the fact he _must_'ve been in an institute- and not the educational kind.

Because standing in the centre of the circular lecture hall, wearing a pure white mask that looked very similar to that of a pharaohs and cackling- _cackling _-just as madly as the idiot beside him, was a man dressed in white slacks and a tie, a black dress shirt and a white trench coat. Ichigo could just see blonde hair behind the mask.

"Names Hirako Shinji," the man pulled away his mask, revealing a drawn out grin on his face. "I'll be taking you for Linguistics. Welcome."

There would have been a murmured response, no doubt, if it hadn't been for the sudden slap to their lecturers head thanks to... the girl with pigtails beside him.

"Ow, Hiyori!" the blonde cringed, glaring down at the smaller one. "What was _that _for?"

"For not introducing me, idiot!"

"I was _getting _there!"

"You were _taking too long_!"

The lecturer continued grudgingly, patting down his straight hair and glaring down at the smaller of the two. "This 's Sarugaki Hiyori, she's my assistant-"

"_I AM NOT YOUR DAMN ASSISTANT._"

"-OW. I GET IT."

Wasn't there a limit to this insanity?

"THEN DON'T SAY I AM."

Apparently not.

* * *

Maybe, Ichigo thought to himself; ignoring the way Grimmjow's hand seemed to appear on his leg _again _and danced along his thigh, maybe he was insane. Because obviously every person at this place was.

Because, no matter what excuse their crazy ass lecturer was using, watching The Mummy for your first class had to be against a regulation or something. Obviously.

And, Ichigo was sure, having an entire lecture hall darkened just gave Grimmjow ammunition to _keep touching him inappropriately_.

Scowling, he slapped the teal-haired freak.

"_Stop it_!"

Out of spite, maybe, the hand travelled higher, massaging his thigh. "Stop what?"

He groaned, and very nearly smashed his head against the table anyway. "Stop _that_!"

Beside him, the idiot snickered, but nonetheless pulled his wandering hand away.

Until...

"_Stop it_."

"Stop- what?"

Movie paused, the lights flickered to life, much to Ichigo's horror. "Who keeps making slapping noises?" called Hiyori, glaring. "Movie in motion, ingrates!"

The movie played again, and Ichigo found his lungs.

Ichigo briefly wondered if it'd be a bad idea if he just so happened to stab his roommate with his pen. He could blame it on some fit of insanity, even.

After all, that pen was looking _mighty _sharp and pointy; hell, he was even willing to clean the mess himself! That had to be some kind of responsible act, right?

Slap. "Stop it!"

Grin. "Stop what?"

Groan. "Someone kill me."

The hand travelled even _higher_, to the point where- if the idiot were to stretch his fingers -he'd be touching his-

"_STOP IT!_"

Grimmjow snickered, leaning forward so he was- no shit -two inches within his face. _Jesus_. "Keep quite, yeah, Ichi? People will hear, and- y'know... _get _the wrong idea."

Oh, Ichigo wanted to tell him _how wrong it was _already. Instead, he glared and sat back- when had he moved forward? -more comfortably in his seat.

Then Grimmjow groped him.

It wasn't Ichigo's fault that he happened to stand bolt upright, hitting his knees on the desk.

"Somethin' wrong, Kurosaki?" asked the lecturer, and the orange-haired boy wondered if- in an ideal world -the ground would kindly open up and _swallow _him whole.

Please.

"Hm?"

Like, _right now_.

"Well?"

Or not. Dammit.

"Uh, nothing. Sorry."

Sitting back down, he threw a glare that could _kill_ at the teal-haired bastard.

Grimmjow scratched his nose, grinning.

Under the table, he certainly didn't move his hand, but he didn't _grope him again_. It was a step up, he supposed.

* * *

**[A/N: **YEAH SORRY. CRAPPY CHAPTER IS CRAPPY. I decided today to just bloody upload what I've got so far, as to not make those poor people whom have decided to watch/fave/review [THANKY YOU SO MUCH, I APPRECIATE ALL OF THE SUPPORT. I wish I could bake you all cookies and cakes to show you how much I love you alllllll~] this... this crack.

IN OTHER NEWS; fourth chapter is- in all honesty -in writing process now! Seeing as the first two chapters were put out a day apart from each other, I think I'll stick to that routine. BUT BECAUSE I FEEL SO BAD, I'll put out like... three. In the next two days. OR AT LEAST ATTEMPT SUCH STUPIDITY. 8DDDD

So enjoy the... filler. Thing. Filler-canon? That reminds me of DGM. FFFF. TROLLING MANGAKA WHYYYY- bye!

[PS; I HOPE EVERYONE ENJOYED AIZEN'S MULLET AS MUCH AS I DID. UNTS. And, if you haven't already done it, GO WATCH THE BLEACH MUSICALS. NOW. 8D]


	4. Electro Panic

**chapter four**

He had to admit, he _was _a smug bastard.

Yeah, yeah, the world was full of 'em assholes, but Grimmjow digresses. After all, smug or not, he's still fucking hot. Even to other dudes.

Like, fuck- that... four eyed dork. Ishida? Yeah, not too bad, a goddamn twig t'boot, but he had a pretty face.

Flat ass, but pretty face. That made up for something.

See, to a faggot like him, Grimmjow would be fucking _heaven_. Tall, smokin' body, and not to mention _ridiculously _hot. Did he point that out? Or, at least if Grimmjow really thought things through like he usually didn't [this habit really landed him in some deep shit sometimes, fucking hell] he'd realize that Ishida, though so obviously gay it kind of hurt to look at him too long, was too goddamn effeminate to really care.

But whatever.

Then there was that Renji fucker. He was hot as shit, too. Kickass hair. And from what Grimmjow remembers of the first night he met the lot of 'em, he had a kickass bod, too. [The only reason Grimm even _remembers _this is because Renji, apparently, had a habit of taking his shirt off when he was as pissed as a horse. Ichigo knew this first hand, as well as Rukia, Byakuya, Yumi and Ikkaku... the list goes on, really.]

Renji was hot, and Grimm would have fucked him if given the opportunity [he wasn't prejudice!] but from what Rukia told him of her brother, the bastard was on a tight leash.

And, because Grimm really wasn't prejudice, honest, he just fucking loved guys- or rather, loved _fucking _guys -the woman he recently found himself surrounded by weren't half bad, either.

There was Rukia, obviously. She was flat chested, short, and kind of really fucking short tempered, but fucking hell- did she have one kind of sense of humor. Plus, she really did enjoy making Ichi's life a living hell with him.

And, uh, she was pretty, he guessed [the odds of him saying somethin' like this aloud were slim to none, because he knew _of _her brother- that didn't mean he wanted to _know_ him, though.]

There was Orihime, who seriously had the _weirdest _taste buds to exist on the face of the _earth_, with the kind of nine-thousand watt smile that _burnt _to stare at too long.

Shit was scary, seriously.

Plus there were her _boobs_. Holy crap, Grimmjow was sure that, had he been the type of dude to actually go for that kind of thing, he'd totally be there already.

And finally Tatsuki. She was hot.

... well, yeah.

_Point being_, why the fuck was Ichi not. Turning. His _head_?

Hell, Grimm was even making an _effort _to look lavishly bored and out there, lying on the couch _shirtless _and, christ- he was even _stretching _in a way that flexed his stomach muscles invitingly.

No one could resist that kind of thing, he knew first hand. So _why the hell could Ichi_? He was just, just _sitting _there at the dining table_, _head bent over a textbook. And _studying_.

_Studying_!

While the very fucking hot, very much to fuckable _Grimmjow _was on the couch. Stretching. For the others enjoyment.

He'd been doing this for nearly, _nearly_, two weeks.

Two. _Weeks_.

Shit was _wrong_, honestly.

Besides, it was practically pointless if the other wasn't even paying attention.

Frowning, Grimmjow made a slight noise in the back of his throat, watching for some kind of reaction.

Ichigo blew a strand of long hair out of his view, before flipping the page.

Grimmjow frowned even further, stretching his arm up behind his head and- okay, _purposely _-making a semi-moaning noise.

The orange-haired boy scratched behind his ear, coughing a little before picking up his pen and scribbling something down on the wad of refill beside the open textbook.

Grimmjow scowled, before throwing a cushion at the ignorant idiot, pleased by the annoyed grunt that came from the other.

Ichigo turned around with a scowl that could _kill_, before throwing the cushion back with more force than what the teal-haired bastard had put into it.

He was sure he would have looked mock-hurt, mind you, if the slight ting of pink across Ichi's face hadn't been more pleasing to see. Grimmjow grinned.

Licked his lips invitingly.

Before finally saying, "let's have sex."

* * *

"'Let's have sex'? Really?" Rukia frowned. Men were stupider than she initially thought, obviously.

Either that, or Grimmjow had a superior plan to, for a lack of a better word, get himself into Ichigo's pants- not that she wanted to think about _that_.

Groaning, Ichigo nodded. "Which is why I'm here, instead of back in the apartment."

Rukia stared, dabbing at her forehead with a towel and rolling her neck. "Studying."

"Studying."

Well, Rukia thought, that made sense. Somehow.

[Across from where Ichigo sat on the padded floor, legs crossed with his textbooks haphazardly stacked beside him, came the noise of someone being pushed face first into the ground.

"Come at me again, Hisagi."

"Y-Yessir!"]

Wait, no it didn't.

"Then why are you _here_?" the dark-haired girl all but kicked the idiot, giving a pointed look to all the people stretching out around them. "There _is _a library, you know. People study _there_."

At Ichigo blank look, she scowled.

"You can't study in the gym, Ichigo. Kensei will either get annoyed, or make you join. Do you want to really go against _that_?" and to prove her point, she flicked a look over at the white-haired, muscular man, who- as if on cue -threw a fist at a dark-haired man running at him.

Fist met face, and before either one of the two watching could _blink_, the dark-haired man found himself with a mouth full of floor and someone sitting on him.

"Again, Hisagi." said Kensei, before standing up and reaching down with a hand.

Wiping his mouth, the other took the outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled up, face red. "Y-yessir!"

Ichigo blinked. "Actually, no. So where's the library?"

Men _were _stupid. Shaking her head, Rukia pointed with her towel at the window beside them; towards the _huge _red bricked building straight across from them. At least her older brother was smart, Renji aside.

"Just be careful," Rukia warned as she stood at the gym doors, watching Ichigo walk away. "You'll get lost if you don't pay attention."

* * *

This is not a library, Ichigo thought upon his first view of the building at it's- admittedly _huge_ -doors. This has to be a continent of it's _own_.

Well. He was partly correct in some case, although it was a library.

And when he walked in? Jesus christ. This library was kind of, uh, _intimidating_, to say the least. And it's bookcases made Ichigo feel insignificantly small. And he's pretty tall, you know, so this was just plain scary.

Walking down one isle which appeared to be _shaking _with the amount of books shoved into it's shelves, he turned his head from side to side, looking at the other students situated around the building. He didn't seem to no any of them, though he couldn't figure out whether that was a good or bad thing.

Possibly good, considering all the people he knew were obviously either insane, or Inoue. Mostly insane.

And, as predicted by Rukia before he left, he found himself lost within in no time.

"Did I turn down here?" Ichigo asked aloud, looking down an isle that looked- much to his dismay -incredibly similar to the one behind him. He found it only slightly creepy when it felt like his voice _echoed_.

Ichigo wasn't the kind to whine, but jesus fuck he was hungry. And his arms were getting tired from holding his text books. And not to mention there was this _irritating noise _coming from his pants-

Wait. _Wait what._

Then, dear god, he _jumped _when he felt something vibrating in his front pocket, scrambling around to pull out his mobile before someone came demanding... something. He didn't know! It was a library, right?

Giving his phone a scandalized look, he frowned at the lack of a caller I.D. That could only mean...

"Hello?"

The most depressing part? He was absolutely right.

"_Yo, King. Long time no see, huh?_"

Ichigo scowled. Growled. Hung up the phone so fast it sounded like the mobile cracked. Then it rang again.

"What the _hell _do you want?" the orange-haired boy practically screamed down receiver, then stopped halfway through and began hissing instead. "I mean, _what the hell, _man?"

"... Uh, Ichi? Could you bring home some cat food? 'M sorry 'ya got pissed off again and-"

For the first time in two weeks, Ichigo kind of felt bad for his roommate. Shaking his head, he found a nearby table and sat down, dropping his textbooks. "Augh, it's fine. Sorry... _Grimmjow_."

...

Ichigo did not like this silence.

"You said my name."

Ichigo faltered. "I-I didn't. I mean, I _did_ but- dear god- _dammit Grimmjow_!"

"You said it again."

Goddammit. Ichigo hung up. Then faltered again, picking up his phone and dialing back the idiot.

"Ichi-!"

"I'LL GET YOUR DAMN CAT FOOD."

Satisfied, Ichigo hung up.

* * *

There was something wrong with the world. If not that, then the collage was even _more _insane than he already thought it was.

It was so obviously the second. Or maybe the first. Or both. It kind of seemed like they were merging into one, to be honest. But it had to mostly be the second.

The moment he walked through the door to his apartment, hands full of groceries and keys held in between his teeth, he knew it was the second. There was no way around it.

First, he knew by the awfully familiar smell in the air.

Second, he knew by the stupid cat _hissing _at him [or rather, the bag of cat food in his hand.]

And lastly? The damn white head of hair he could see from behind the couch.

"Sh-_Shiro_?"

Much to his horror, the white head of hair turned, and staring back at him was the second most painful pain in the ass to ever exist along side Ichigo.

"Yo, king." The _second moron_ grinned sluggishly, picking himself off the couch and sleepily making his way towards Ichigo. The orange-haired boy grimaced at the smell that followed him. "It's been so fuckin' _long_!"

And the idiot hugged him.

Hugged.

Him.

Something was so damn wrong, it was like a government conspiracy glaring at him in the face.

Then he sniffed the others shoulder, and knew straight away what the _hell_ it bloody was.

"You've been _smoking_ again, Shiro!" Ichigo scowled, slapping the other behind the head. The small yelp that escaped the other was followed by whining, then- "_Stop groping me_!"

Shiro, sniffing into Ichigo's shirt, not only _didn't _listen, but wrapped his arms around the others waist and _groped his ass._

"Y'know," Grimmjow intoned from the couch, stretched out in his usual lazy state. "That would be totally hot, if it was _me _doing it."

"Not. _Helping_. Idiot." Ichigo glared.

The teal-haired bastard shrugged. "Still hot, though."

Ichigo's glare quadrupled, because he seriously thought he didn't _have _to mention how _unhelpful _the asshole was being. And again, the white-haired twat groped him. Then tackled him. And sat on him, face nuzzling into his neck rather uncomfortably.

And right there was exactly the reason why Ichigo _seriously _hated his brother; poking his _thigh_.

Sighing, Ichigo deflated. God hated him, that was the _only _answer.

That and Shiro's libido, not that he'd ever let _that _get the best of him. If he gave the white-haired moron an hour or so, he'd pass out- hopefully.

"Ya'still smell good, king." Shiro purred into Ichigo's throat, nose digging into his skin. "So fucking good-"

"Shut up, idiot." Ichigo interrupted quickly, slapping the back of his head. What made it worse were his hands on his damn ass again. Goddammit. "And what the hell are you _doing _here? Aren't you suppose to be in-"

"The Funny farm? Yeah."

"... then why aren't you there?"

Again, with the foreboding silence. Dammit.

"Yeah. About that."

* * *

Just as predicted, an hour later and Shiro was passed out on the loveseat, face curled up on Ichigo's lap. Sighing, the orange-haired boy gave his brother a feeble glare- no point in tiring him_self_ out if the moron was asleep. Especially if the desired effect wouldn't come about [even though it never really happened when he was _awake _either, come to think of it.]

Across from him though, and what was probably the strangest thing of them all, was the scowl on Grimmjow's face.

"What?" Ichigo blinked. "I brought home your damn cat food, what's wrong?"

Glaring, Grimmjow scowl seemed to double. "Why is _he _allowed to lie on you?"

Ichigo stopped.

Stared.

Really, _stared _at the idiot.

"Are you- are you _serious_?" Ichigo hissed as quietly as possible. "Or _senile_? Because I'm _use _to it, maybe? I did grow up with him, you know. It was _always_ like this-"

The head on his lap gave a little twitch, and Ichigo stopped to take a deep breath. Why, oh why, was he always yelling now days?

"Anyway. That doesn't matter." At the teal-haired freaks look of betrayal, the orange-haired boy carried on. "Get me the phone, would you? I'll give my dad a call and get him to come up and grab Shiro before-"

_Riiiiing._

Oh, jesus fuck, Ichigo thought, giving the ringing phone a horrified look. Had they already notified his dad of Shiro's _obvious _breakout? Were they coming to take him away again [although, right now, that wouldn't have been so bad, in all honesty]? Was it their landlord who he _still hadn't met?_

_Riiiiiiiiiiing._

He could pick it up, sure. But what if they _were _coming to take Shiro away? Though Ichigo really _did not like _his brother, they were still brothers and that, in turn, involved some sort of bond, right? Like, _sibling _bond, maybe?

_RIIIIIIIIIIING_.

"Hello?" said Grimmjow as he, _nonchalantly, _picked up the terrifying beast.

Ichigo gaped, because he didn't know whether he felt horrified by the blank look on the others face, or relieved that _he _hadn't picked it up himself.

"Oh, Kurosaki? Yeah, Ichi's here."

The look of definite horror-almost relief quickly faded to barely-there agitation. No way. How did they get this _number_?

"Here, Ichi," the teal-haired freak held the phone out to him. "It's your _dad_."

And he sniggered, dumping the phone on the white-haired boy's head, before all but slinking away in a very cat-like manner. Ichigo stared, while the idiot on his lap twitched and fell off the couch.

He... he never knew Grimmjow could _move _like that- "ICHIGO, MY SON. HOW ARE YOU?"

But, really, how did they get this number?

* * *

**[A/N**: OH JESUS I AM SO TIRED WHY AM I UP. Because iluamy 8D CHAPTER FIVE IS ALMOST HERE, GUYS. SORRY FOR THE WAIT ON THE CRAAAAACK. I am currently fueled by Lady Shinji and CAPS. SO BRB.

**Standard discraimer.]**


	5. Noise Maker

**chapter five**

Ichigo hated his family.

No, really, he did.

Or maybe it was just his dad and brother. Because Yuzu and Karin, though sometimes horribly mislead [mostly Yuzu, of course, poor thing] were pretty much on to things. Most of the time.

But really, if Grimmjow and Rukia _didn't. Stop. Laughing_. Something bad was going to happen to one of the two, and it was more likely than not going to be the former bastard, because no matter what, Byakuya _still _scared the crap out of him.

At least the damn _cat _didn't hiss at him anymore, Ichigo guessed, rubbing the animal in between it's ears with his thumb. That was an upside to it all.

Even if the downside was having his family sit on his _couch_. All squashed together like. Like _wanted visitors_. What was the most uncool thing was the feeling of deja-vu Ichigo was getting at simply staring at them.

As if to prove this true, the damn cat _bit _him.

Ichigo retracting his wounded thumb and gave the cat an accosted look.

"So, Ichigo, my son," goatface grinned from his spot on the couch, eyes zooming from between his son and his son's _roommate_ [who was now _snickering _on the floor with Rukia. On the upside, he was wearing a shirt. Thank _gods_.] "How have you been?"

If the obvious looks between the two weren't enough, _Shiro _had to go ahead and bloody open his mouth.

"Yeah, how have you _been, _king?" the white-haired moron intoned, shooting a _look _between teal-haired bastard and his brother. "All nice, with _him_?"

"Hey man," Grimmjow called from the floor, looking as mock-hurt as his stupid cat looked smug. "Just because yer bro's eyes can't stop _scootin' _t'me, doesn't mean ya gotta go hating."

Shiro scowled. "Oh please, he's looking at you because your stupidity is too hard not to notice!"

Ichigo blinked.

"_Hah_, those sound like some jealous words from his _brother_. Come to think of it, shouldn't you- I don't know, _be in the loony bin_?"

_What the hell_, Ichigo thought. _What the hell is going on_.

"Me? _Just _me? You should be put on trial for sexual harassment! Yeah, I know what's been goin' down with my brother, don't you worry." Turning his head, Shiro grinned at his brother. "No need t'worry, king! I'm here now, and _nothin' _'s gonna happen while _I'm _around!"

Ichigo didn't like the sound of this. At all.

"Yes, you!" in an instant, Grimmjow was up and glaring at the white-haired boy. "And I think yer too stupid t'realize, but maybe Ichi _likes _the way I am?"

From the couch across from him, Yuzu placed a finger to her chin. "Ichi-nii," she called. "Is he your _boyfriend_?"

Almost immediately, Shiro and Grimmjow stopped yelling at each other.

Ichigo turned the color of his _name_.

Rukia almost choked to death.

Pantera... Pantera rolled over, _demandingly_. [Yuzu gave the little kitty a soft rub on it's tummy, and it purred in return.]

But, all in all, Ichigo was currently _telling God _[who, so obviously hated him] that he _hated _him. Why? Why was this happening? Ichigo could practically see his life flashing before his eyes, all moments leading up to this one and- _why_?

What made it all a little worse, though, was the pounding headache that was threatening to make his brain implode. And that was the sad, sad truth of it all.

"King?" demanded Shiro after the silence became rather suffocating. "Well?"

Grimmjow was staring.

Goatface was staring.

Karin and Yuzu and _Rukia _were staring.

Ichigo wanted to hide. So much. Like, under the couch. Now if only someone would kindly lift the damn thing and _allow him to die._

"I- uh. Grimmjow and I." Ichigo faltered, panic bells ringing high in his ears. "We're roommates! I mean. Uh."

He tried to ignore the look of glee on the idiot's face at the mention of his name, instead focusing on regaining a _proper _skin color. It was going well. At least, it had been, before Rukia opened _her _dumb mouth.

"Then what about the morning I came around and you two were... _busy_?"

The look of horror on the orange-haired boys face was probably nowhere near enough to express the _internal horror _he felt at having his sisters _hear words of this_. No way. God no.

This was all a bad dream.

It _had _to be a bad dream.

There was no way in heaven or hell [aka THIS APARTMENT] this could be _real_! If Ichigo just, blinked a couple times, or smacked himself a bit, he'd surely wake up from this _absolute nightmare_.

Ha.

Hahaha.

Hahahahahaha.

_Hahahahahahahahahaha._

He smacked himself in the head. WHY WAS HE LAUGHING?

Obviously, he was going insane. There was no other way to explain this madness.

"Son," his stupid dad said after a moment, in a very serious manner. "I think it's late, and you need to sleep."

For once, _for once_, his dad was absolutely right. Ichigo practically deflated. Of course! He was tired; now to get rid of Shiro and his family and jump into bed and really think about how this was all a bad dream-

"So we'll be staying the night."

_Kill me._

_

* * *

_

Ichigo was trying to figure this out. Like how had he found himself on the floor, in his boxers and t-shirt, with his stupid dad's snoring in his ear and Shiro's hand _groping _him under the blanket.

He wanted to die. Right now. On the floor. Maybe then salvation would come!

...

Yeah, right.

If anything, God would probably laugh at him while he stood before heaven's gates, pointing a mocking finger at the orange-haired boy.

And Grimmjow, the bastard, hadn't given up _his _bed to his family like _Ichigo had_. Even though he really wished he hadn't, because though he truly cared about his sisters, dear God did they have a hard lounge floor.

But, on the bright side, Pantera seemed to take a liking to sleeping on Shiro's head, and that was A-OK in Ichigo's books. In fact, he gave the cat a soft pet.

It mewed pleasantly, and head-butted his fingers, purring.

Well, thought Ichigo, he could deal with the cat for now, and Shiro's groping hand, and even stupid goatface's annoying snoring in his ear, because he was tired, and hungry, and would kill for a _burger _right now-

"OW."

Obviously, he'd spoken too soon.

Sighing, Ichigo leaned up a bit, squinting to focus on _whatever _had made the noise down the hall. And not to his surprise, he could see Grimmjow doubled over his foot, muttering.

Quietly, the orange-haired boy hissed. "Oi." He waited; nothing. "_Oi_, _idiot_." Nope, _still_ nothing. "_Grimmjow_."

The moron looked up, and after spotting the other, grinned. "Heya, Ichi. How's it goin'?"

Ichigo deadpanned. "What the hell are you doing? It's nearly one in the morning."

Still silent, he watched Grimmjow stand up and wiggle his foot, scratching behind his head while he looked at everything _but _the boy glaring at him.

"Uh, actually. I was gonna, er. Ask. If y'wanted t-"

"If you're asking for sex while my _family _is here, then no."

"Dammit. Oh well,g'night-" Ichigo scowled. "_Okay_! That wasn't it. I was wonderin' if y'wanted to... uh. Share my bed."

This. Wasn't right.

This was _Grimmjow_, asshole among assholes. King bastard. The number one pervert on _campus_, who had an affinity for touching Ichigo inappropriately underneath the lecture hall desks and calling him stupid nicknames.

There had to be something going on. Or, the idiot was taking his efforts to get into Ichigo's pants to new heights; what was bad was the fact that Ichigo didn't know which one it was. So _why_?

As if reading his thoughts, the idiot waved a hand. "I know yer on the floor an' everythin', and havin' _him-_" he glared at Shiro. "-and yer dad with ya probably ain't fun, either. We got a lecture in th'mornin', too. _So._"

Wow, thought Ichigo. That was kind of... nice. Sweet, even. In a weird, Grimmjow way.

"Plus my cat's angry at me and likes you. I can understand why. Yer hot shit, Ichi. It's weird, I don't like it when Pantera is angry at me!"

And the bastards efforts were just flushed down the drain. Idiot.

"I'm fine." Ichigo scowled, rolling over. "Go to bed!"

"But _Ichi_!I can't!"

"You _can_ too!"

"I can't, honest!"

"FINE."

Two minutes later, and Ichigo was staring up at Grimmjow's ceiling. Or rather, he was _glaring _up at his ceiling.

Grimmjow was very smug about it, no doubt. The 'accidental' hand on his thigh- despite the huge gap the orange-haired boy had enforced -was telling him just that. Goddammit; how did Ichigo get himself into these situations?

Oh well, thought Ichigo, counting the cracks in the ceiling. He could fall asleep now and _try _to forget the idiot who he was lying beside, or stay up and realize that, yes, he _was lying beside the teal-haired idiot._

He took option a.

* * *

Approximately a lot of hours later, the same feeling of deja vu from yesterday was very much still around.

Only, this time the feeling was much more vivid, and he was sure there was no way in _hell_ he could ever forget the first time this happened.

Ah, but _last time_, he had been naked. And hung over. And his face hadn't been full of _blue _and there weren't arms snaked around his _waist_ and _there hadn't been something hard poking him in the thigh._

Dear god. WHY.

"Grimmjow," Ichigo hissed quietly, trying to find out where his _hands _were. "Grimmjow, get up."

Nothing.

"Grimmjow. Get. Up. _Now_."

Still nothing.

"_For the love of God-_"

"Ngh, Ichi..." the bastard groaned softly, digging a nose deeper into Ichigo's collar bone and- _why was he shirtless?_ He hadn't been shirtless when they went to bed, right? What was going on. "Don't, ugh. Don't move, please."

Much to his dismay, the idiot moved closer and- _jesus christ did he just-_

Quickly, Ichigo pulled away his hands, and was even more horrified to find that _when he moved them, _he felt his fingers brush past- _jesus_- WHY.

Completely forgetting about his _family_, Kurosaki Ichigo, currently nineteen and still a virgin, screamed.

* * *

**[a/n: **This should have been the real ending for chapter four, my bad! But I rushed to put out the last chapter, so instead. YOU GET MORE.**]**

**

* * *

**

...and screamed some more.

So much so, that the teal-haired bastard also screamed, and rolled out of bed. On to the floor. _Naked._

WHEN HAD HE GOTTEN NAKED.

Ichigo didn't know, Grimmjow probably wouldn't have known because, no doubt, he'd have been unconscious when he'd done it, and there was no way in heaven or hell [or this apartment] that the hissing cat at the bastard's feet would know either [although, it did have more of a chance at knowing.]

Finally, the idiot stopped on his stomach, running a hand through his hair and blinking a couple times. Ichigo hoped- no, _really_, hoped -that the _boner _he had was _gone_.

[Because, y'know, even though the moron was kinda good looking, and he _did _have a nice body, Ichigo would admit, there was absolutely no way he was getting any. Ever.]

Turning towards the orange haired boy, the freak yawned. "What's up, Ichi?"

Ichigo glared, throwing the blankets off andstomping towards the other. "_Apparently_," he said between clenched teeth. "_Your dick._"

And kicked him square in the face.

* * *

Ichi wasn't talking to him.

No, really. Four weeks had gone by, and he _wasn't. Talking. To him._

And for some reason, that really bugged Grimmjow. After all, he was use to the cold shoulder, and not talking was probably easier if he wanted sex, right?

But really, this was stupid. And it was even stupider that it bugged him. A lot.

[Well, when he really thought about it- and by this, he means _really _thought about it. With his brain, and not his dick -it was probably Ichi's _stupid brother _fault.]

After the first week, it hadn't been so bad. Ichi talked to him in class sometimes [they _were _seating partners, much to Grimmjow's amusement], although on the most part he ignored him everywhere else. At least Ichi's insane family was gone, brother included.

The second week wasn't so bad, either, only this time the orange-haired boy took the silence to a new level, and just stopped walking into him all together.

After the third week, Grimmjow was surprised he had a roommate, if the way Ichi seemed to disappear off the face of the earth was anything to go by [that and the excessive house calls from a certain white-haired _creep_].

Then lo and behold, come week four, and Grimmjow was getting a little on edge. And by a little, what he really meant was kind of insane.

And staring across the table at him was Rukia, sipping at her milkshake and holding her phone on the little glass table that they sat at. She was giving him a wise look, one corner of her mouth quirked.

She was amused.

He was not.

And Ichi was _nowhere _to be seen.

"I don't get it," Rukia finally said after what felt like _forever _of awkward silence, though by the glint in her eye she knew _exactly _what was going on. "I mean, brother and I _did _invite the two of you out for lunch, and Ichigo's never missed a lunch date with us. I wonder what could be wrong?"

At the mention of brother, Grimmjow's eyes quickly darted to the tall, dark haired man standing with the Renji fucker, a little ways from them. An unwanted shiver ran up his spine at the quick cold look the other gave him back.

Quickly, he turned back to Rukia, giving in with a groan. "Ichi won't talk to me."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I gathered that. What did you _do_? The idiot won't stop muttering in class." Taking another sip, she waved a hand. "And, to be honest, it's getting annoying. Do you know how _hard _it is to take notes when someone is constantly distracting you?"

Well, come to think of it, he kind of did. Only usually it was _him _who was causing the distraction. The thought made him grin.

Then frown, because he hadn't been able to distract a certain orange-haired boy for almost four weeks.

"Well," the shorter girl continued, playing with her straw. "I have an idea to get you back into Ichigo's good books."

Grimmjow shrugged, sipping at his own milk. "Shoot."

"Woo him."

Across the room, Renji stared over at Rukia and Grimmjow, wondering why the latter was spluttering about. He shrugged, turning his attention back to the handsome man in front of him. [He would have preferred hot, because that's exactly what the oldest Kuchiki was, but Rukia had taught him long ago that sounding unrefined was not a good way to get himself into Byakuya's pants, and hencefore; handsome.]

Back to where the two collage students sat, Grimmjow found himself in the uncanny situation of feeling _really _uncomfortable. And that never happened, so either Rukia was _seriously _trying to make him choke on his milk, or she was actually on to something.

He took option A.

"_Woo _him?" he hacked, not caring how loud he must have sounded. "I don't mean t'rain on yer parade, little lady, but just so you know, _I don't woo._"

Rukia, in all her crazy, whacked up feminine wisdom, merely scowled. "Oh, okay then, Mr. Jeagerjacques. Then I'm sorry to be wasting your time." Taking one last sip of her milkshake, she picked herself up from the table and pulled on her scarf. "I do hope you enjoy the eternal _silence_."

Fuck, thought Grimmjow, watching the younger girl pull on her jacket next, _fuck_.

"Fine!"

Smirking, Rukia pulled her jacket off and sat back down. "Good, you _do _have a brain."

Shit, he would have totally been offended by that, if he wasn't actually thinking that she _was _on to something.

"So this wooing, how th'hell do y'know it'll work?"

"Oh, it'll work just fine." At the teal-haired man's narrowed gaze, she rolled her eyes. "Ichigo was raised by two sisters and an overly loving father; secretly, he's a big closet romantic. I've seen it first hand, don't worry."

He still wasn't convinced. "Eh, I'unno, seems kind of pansy like t'me."

"Do you want back in?"

"Er."

"I thought so." Raising a hand, Rukia pinned down a waiter. "Another chocolate milkshake for me, and strawberry milk for him."

* * *

Ichigo thought he was doing rather well, to be honest. He was getting more study hours in, his classes were going well, and- best of all -Grimmjow was nowhere to be seen when he walked through the front door.

With this in mind, he gave the bathtub a sideways glance. With the pervert out, he could...

Screw it; he pulled at his shirt the second he dumped his book bag at his bedroom door, turning into the lounge to-

"Ah, you're back!"

"HOLY FUCK."

Screaming, Ichigo practically ran headfirst into the wall.

A couple seconds later, lying on the floor, he came face to face with a certain idiot's cat, licking it's lips and purring as it headbutted him.

For everyone's sake, he pulled his shirt back down.

Then jumped up, pointing at the long dark haired man sitting on his couch.

"WHO IN THE HELL ARE YOU?"

The man gave a slight pout, looking a little irked by Ichigo's accusing finger. "My, my, Grimmjow never told you about me? That's not very nice. And after all these years my Jyuu-chan and I have looked after him, too! Ah, that boy, whatever will we do with him, hmm?"

Ichigo blinked. "What." He blinked some more. "I'm sorry, but _what_?"

"Ah, it's okay." Pulling himself up from where he was almost-lying on the couch, the dark haired man held out a hand. "My names Kyouraku Shunsui, the landlord. It's nice to finally meet you."

Taking the others hand, he gave a firm shake before realizing that, _oh shit_, his _landlord_ was in his _apartment_.

When had he forgotten about paying _rent?_

As if reading his mind, the older man chuckled, waving a lazy hand. "No, no, don't worry about rent; Grimmjow already paid. I was actually hear to ask a favor of our newest tenant."

Suddenly, the orange haired boy found himself on the verge of paranoia. If this man knew Grimmjow, was _he _a pervert too?

"And, uh, what would that be?" Ichigo finally asked.

"I was wondering if you'd oh so kindly help out at the library?"

Okay.

Wait.

Wait, _what_? This man seemed like he didn't even _know_ what the inside of library _looked _like!

"Oh, don't give me that look, Kurosaki-kun. It's for my sweet little Nanao-chan, you see. She insists she can run the library all on her own with only minimal help from a few others, but if you've seen it, then you'd surely know how _big _it is." At Ichigo's suspicious look, he chuckled again. "Please, it would help out a lot. And it would count for extra credits, you know."

Suddenly, the orange-haired boy was a whole lot less paranoid, and a whole lot more attentive. "Sure! Why not? I mean, I'm sure she could use the help."

"Great," the man smiled, giving Ichigo a pat on his shoulder that, actually, really, he promises, didn't hurt as much as his face would've said at the time. "Oh, and this came in the mail. I'm not too sure who it's addressed to, but you're here, so I'll give it to you, hm?"

Taking the brown package, the boy carefully turned it over in his hands. After a moment of outer inspection, he gave up and gave the thing a good shake.

Instead of a rattling noise like he would have expected, he heard a loud thump. That... was different.

"Why not open it?" the landlord suggested, giving the package a questioning look. "Ah, Kurosaki-kun, what if it's a present from a lovely lady? Or perhaps a gift wrapped in _love_? Or-"

Just to shut the other man up, Ichigo teared off the brown paper. The man sounded like his _dad_, Christ-

Okay. What. The _hell_.

"A camera?"

Ichigo blinked, then frowned. "A... a camera."

* * *

An hour later, when Grimmjow returned from lunch with Rukia [which he had, admittedly, decided to 'forget' in favor for studying, although no studying was achieved] Ichigo had mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of perversion and general Grimmjow-ness that the other radiated.

Instead of making a quick comment on the way that Ichigo was lying on the couch [also admittedly stretched out in a Grimmjow-ish way] the idiot made his way to the kitchen, pulled out a soda before walking into his bedroom.

From his spot on the couch, Ichigo gaped.

Had he... had he just been _ignored_?

* * *

**[a/n: **OTL this took so long to put out! Sorry about that, guysssss. I've been trying to write longer chapters, and actually fill 'em with some.. kind.. of plot? WHATEVER. Point being, once I get over being sick [MY STUPID HOLLOW GAVE ME AIDS FFFFF] I'm gonna go grab a piece of scrap paper or tissue, and write some form of plot down on it. And like, set moments. SO FAR all I have is cracky stuff in my head that could... somehow... be used for this fic. I DON'T EVEN KNOW. Bye bye~!

standard discraimer.]


End file.
